Bloody Sunday
by Mopargirl1
Summary: Barney and the guys find themselves on mission in Ireland to extract two RIRA members. I am not good in summary, sorry. I recently found myself wondering what Barney would do if he ever came face to face with the RIRA/IRA so I'm exploring it. This is a story about the consequences faced for decisions made. Post EXP1 No pairings. Rated M for adult subject matter, blood and violence.
1. The Harbinger

**I watch and stare as Roisin's eyes**

**Turn a darker shade of red**

**And the bullet with this sniper lie**

**In their bloody gutless cell**

**Must we starve on crumbs from long ago**

**Through bars these men made steel**

**Is it a great or little thing we fought**

**Knelt the conscience blessed to kill**

**\- Flogging Molly**

* * *

**Disclaimer- I do not own the expendables, the only thing I own are my ocs.**

* * *

**The Irish Sea, Near the border of Northern Ireland, 1700 hours, Friday, October 15th**

* * *

The tall, dark-haired man, with equally dark eyes surveyed the beach in front of him, to no avail. He couldn't see more than a foot in any direction, except for high along the cliff face, where the gray fog swirled and danced on the cold winds. Mostly, blind to what went on around him, his other senses heightened. A dark shiver passed down his normally rigid spine, shaking off the alien feeling. Instead, focusing on what his heightened senses revealed about his surroundings. In the distance he could hear the ringing of buoy, the faint noise, mostly drowned out by the sounds of the surf crashing onto the beach, focusing in that direction. He tried again to peer through the dense wet fog that surrounded him at present and laid its icy fingers on his neck. But he couldn't make out more than a faint outline of the waves. Tugging the collar of his Navy pea coat higher around his neck, he took a pull off the cigar he held clamped between his teeth and reaching up with both hands pulled the brown drivers cap down so it set firmly on his head. He found himself hoping, strangely enough, that cold fingers he'd recently felt weren't an omen of what was to come, thinking again about the potential suicide mission he found himself on. At that moment, the wind picked up howling along the cliff behind him, the eerie sound making his body stiffen. He hoped that icy grip he'd just felt wasn't a harbinger of what was to come. His vaguely worried mind drifting, again, to the latest mission, he'd placed himself and his men upon.

The wind picking up again and howling mournfully, made his disquiet worsen. His mind drifted to the tales Tool, used to tell. Ones, he'd learned from his grandmother. Maggy Guinness, had been born in County Cork, Ireland and filled Tools head with stories, of the sidhe, selkies, and little green men, and many others. And Tool had shared a few of those tales through the years, mostly when they'd been younger men. After they had met in Bosnia, when they'd both still longed for home and hearth. Barney had spent a night or two, listening to a drunken Tool, tell stories of Deathcouchs, and ghostly specters. But at this moment the only tale Barney Ross could think of was the banshee. And the words he'd once read in an old Irish poem. The Banshee mournful wails in the midst of the silent, lonely, lonely night, plaining, she sings the song of death. As the last word of that line of poetry died off in his head, the wind picked up harder than before, howling with greater force as it whipped along the cliff face. The fine hairs along his arm stood up as he felt those icy fingers slide back around his neck once again. Their fridged grasp taking hold of his bones and not letting go.

Not normally a superstitious man, he dismissed the unease settling inside him and watched again. His eyes straining against the fog, trying to catch the slightest glimpse of either his British friend or Toll Road. But to no avail, he knew it would be a bit longer before they appeared. The Brit and Toll Road had made their way to the nearest village to have a look around to see if they could see any sign of their targets or if there might be any of their targets, brothers in arms present. He'd sent Toll Road with Lee today instead of going himself for one reason. Both Road and Lee would blend into the local populace better than Barney himself. He was too dark-skinned and obviously of Italian descent to blend into a small Irish fishing village unnoticed. They need complete anonymity at this moment. And that had ruled out all candidates except, Lee and Toll Road. The others like Barney would stick out in the crowd, so he had left the others on the plane. And then headed off to meet their contact for this mission, leaving the scouting of the village to Toll and Lee. Barney knew, now, since his meeting, that Lee and Toll wouldn't find any trace of the O'Leary siblings in the village, they'd traveled to a cabin four hours south of Dublin on the coast. A safe house used by them and their comrades when and if someone needed to lay low. They were exactly where Barney needed them to be alone and in an isolated location.

As he waited for Lee and Toll Road, he allowed his mind to focus fully on the mission before him and what had brought him to this desolate stretch of beach on the Irish shore. Meghan O'Leary and her brother Silas both members of the former IRA and two of its most persistent hangers on. Just a couple, of the few hundred still fighting for the freedom they felt they deserved. The pair had just the previous month shot and killed U.S. Senator Nathaniel Nash's, only son in Dublin. The son wasn't their target he had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it didn't matter. There was a price to be paid and vengeance to be exacted. Normally Barney wouldn't involve himself or his men in a mission where a woman was the target, but Meghan O'Leary wasn't your normal women. She and her brother were both trained and hardened killers.

One thing did give Barney pause, they fought for a cause one they'd given their entire lives too, and where willing to die for, if need be. And in Barney's experience a man with conviction, not matter what it might be in, was one to be handled with care.

And that was the only thing that gave him any second thoughts. It wasn't that he and his men were greatly outnumbered, Barney had spent three weeks of careful planning, waiting, for the best moment to grab them. If his plan worked as he wanted, they'd have the siblings and be out of Ireland before any fellow RIRA members realized it. What worried him, what bothered him, and what made Meghan and Silas O'Leary dangerous was they believed in what they stood for. In the research he'd done, he found himself in awe, the pair stood behind their beliefs, regardless of the personal cost. And those costs had been heavy indeed, they'd lost both parents and another sibling to this fight. Their father had been dedicated to this cause till the end and so had their mother, believing that they fought on the side of right. They'd raised their children to, two beliefs, a faith in God and a faith in their right for freedom.

Lee had been against this mission from the beginning, having plenty to say. Lee had, in his time in the British SAS, come face to face with the IRA and RIRA. And assured Barney that tangling with the RIRA the group that had formed post the Belfast agreement was a bad idea.

Then Lee had scoffed and went on a rant, saying, the term freedom fighters and RIRA should never be used in the same sentence. Freedom fighter implied a moral code something the RIRA lacked. Saying in his rant, the RIRA were nothing but terrorists and there was a good reason they were on the terrorist alert lists in both Britain and the state. Lee had tried to make his point by saying, if an English Protestant killed an Irish Catholic, then the Irish Catholics would kill three English Protestants to get their point across. Then asked Barney if he knew what that point was. Barney had answered, slightly taken aback by Lees passion on the subject, 'I can guess." Lee had informed him, 'the message is don't fuck with us and ours.' Lee had then asked Barney what exactly he thought the Irish bastards would do if they got their hands on them or figured out who exactly had come for two of their own? Barney had answered with a question of his own, 'when you become such a mama's boy?' By the next day Lee was, begrudgingly, on board. Barney did admit to himself as the wind came up harder this time that he wasn't so sure about this mission now that he was here. If Lee had stayed opposed Barney wasn't sure they'd be here now, but he hadn't asked what had changed his second in commands mind.

* * *

Meghan O'Leary had no idea as she knelt beside her bed that night and prayed The Lord would wash her hands clean of innocent blood upon them, that a reckoning was coming. She didn't pay the mournful winds the least thought, nor did she notice the ghostly specters dancing in the mist outside of the cabin windows. If she had, she might have heard the warning that seemed to travel on those winds and shake the window panes in her room. Her granny had always said listen to the winds, _a aingil_, they tell you all you need to know.

But she didn't listen.


	2. The Pale Horse

**May the living be dead in our wake**

* * *

**The Irish coast, county Leinster, 0030 hours, Sunday October 17**

* * *

From atop a moor less than half a kilometer away Barney Ross watched the small thatched cottage through a pair night vision binoculars. Lowering his Minox his eyes drifted to the black land rover that had arrived an hour and a half ago, the vehicle only made visible by the gleam of the patchy moonlight that shone through the thin fog and clouds overhead. Sighing heavily, in irritation, he knew they were going to have no choice but to continue with the mission as planned. They'd been starting maneuvers toward the cabin when the dark SUVs headlight had become visible on the road leading into this secluded spot. Even though there were no definable marking on the vehicle or the three men that had gotten out, and roused their sleeping quarry there was only one possibility of who they could be. More Irish rebels. After the newcomers had arrived Barney had pulled the guys back and they'd met at a rendezvous point close by as Barney decided on their new course of action. He much preferred these Irish bastards in pairs, the idea of five instead of two made him more cautious.

But he also knew the longer they waited the more chance of being detected they stood. He still decided to give it time and see. If the newcomer hadn't left by two o'clock, then they'd move on them. They all knew the primary objective was getting the O'Leary siblings out alive. The others were to be treated as any job hazard.

The lights went out in the cabin around one am at 1:50 Barney was ready.

* * *

Meghan O'Leary said Goodnight to her comrades and made her way through the cottage to her chamber nestled into the back corner of the cabin facing the moors to the right of the drive. She'd been uneasy all day, truly, a certain amount of nagging doubt had stayed with her since the moment that senator's son had stepped into the firing line, but shed largely ignored it. Telling herself, innocent life's were sometimes taken in their line of work. 'Accidentals' as her brother called them. And stupidly Meghan had allowed that thought to ease her worry, but this one was different, he was a United States senator's son. Not just a civilian.

And now Mickey O'Toole, and his boys, Sean McFarland and Fadden McGuire had come bringing news that some questionable characters had been spotted in Broony a small fishing village several hours north near the border of Northern Ireland. The chancers had been suspicious enough to warrant a warning of sorts, but not dodgy enough to mean her brother and comrades took precautions. This safe house was little known and well hidden.

Mickey hadn't seen them himself, the incident was reported to him through a local pub owner loyal to the cause. Strangers weren't all that an uncommon of an occurrence on the Irish coast or in Broony itself, but in light of the death of American Senator's son the army was on alert.

After that fateful day, when shed pulled the trigger a private party mediator had reached out to father Maginus in Belfast, a high-ranking army man and asked for a quiet resolution. Suggesting the Army hand over Silas and herself. But that was something the real IRA didn't do, give up one of their own. Not to mention neither Silas or herself were just soldiers to the good father. His long-standing relationship of mutual respect and friendship with her parents had compelled him to take Meghan and her brothers in after their parents died. He'd Personally overseen their training. He'd also been there and held Meghan's hand as they'd laid her brother Tommy to rest. Tommy had died a lad of twenty-two, cut down in battle. Yet another soul given up in a fight for freedom that had spanned generations.

All had gone silent when Father Maginus refused and had stayed silent for the last three weeks, nothing out of the ordinary had happened. That was until today. The bar keep had said they were a rough pair, one was a Brit the other American with a story about staying in Dublin and just being out sightseeing.

The only defining mark the barkeep had been able to give was one, was tall the other short, and the tall one had a mangled ear and the Brits accent was the London accent. He'd had them followed while they wandered around the town, but he'd lost them in the crowd at the fish market.

When Meghan had suggested that maybe they should take this seriously. Silas had told her to stop worrying.

So Meghan had headed for her room taking precautions to keep her guns close, knelt and said a prayer that The Lord would keep them on the side of right and that if he saw fit protect them from harm.

It was 2:03 in the morning on Sunday October seventeenth when the wind shifted and brought with it hell.

* * *

Pushing his misgivings away Barney turned his attention to Lee and nodded as he spoke into his com, "take position." The guys spread out in teams to various places as they'd lain in wait. At Barneys command they began to move, taking up tactical positions in the form of a half-moon around the cabin, the jagged cliff face cutting off escape toward the coast. The drop to the dark, churning ocean below was at least 75 feet. And if their targets were brazen enough to attempt an escape in that direction they'd meet with churning waters and great huge rock standing up from the ocean floor. And most likely an untimely end. No less untimely than the other fate that awaited them, however.

Barney waited for the last minutes to tick by, a heavy feeling of unease settling into his stomach as he moved into position himself, behind one of the SUVs. He watched as Toll Road and Hale moved into position sticking close to the front wall of the cabin. The cabin had only been dark 45 minutes or so and really, he'd prefer to wait longer before they moved, but they had a schedule to keep. He could only hope that the laughter and loud voices that had come from the building meant the Irish were drunk and hopefully at least they'd be sluggish to react. They were supposed to meet the senators men in Germany close to the Polish boarder today at which time they'd hand off the O'Learys.

* * *

It was Mickey that heard the faint scrapping noise against the cabin wall. Normally he'd have just rolled back over on his make shift bed on the floor in front of the hearth, thinking the noise little more than an animal or some other night time noise. But years of war and fighting had honed his instincts. Instinct also sent his hand to fire arm he still wore holstered. His gaze shifted to Fadden were he slept in an old club chair close by as he stood, making his way silently across the room. Stopping, not directly in front of the window, but close enough he could see the yard. His ears strained against the faint wind that rushed along the moors and his eyes against the shadows in the moonlit yard. Hearing nothing nor seeing anythig except shifting shadows, he was about ready to go back to bed when he saw slight movement to the right of his vision. His hand tightened on his pistol as he unholstered it and he backed across the room, heart pounding as he woke his companions. Ordering Sean and Fadden to move the old oak cupboard that sat by the door in front of it, he turned his attention to Silas who'd been asleep on a small lounge across the room, but he was already up moving down the hall toward the room where his sister slept.

Meghan was woke to the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor, faint voices and footsteps hurrying down the hallway toward her room. Heart pounding, her hand shot under her pillow grabbing the warm grip of the side arm she placed under it before falling asleep, at the same time rolling from her bed. Her knees connected with the ancient wooden floor with a painful thump, at the same moment her door flung open and Silas's face appeared in her doorway. "Move your arse little sister, we got company." Already pulling her boots onto her bare feet, she quickly finished the task and jumped up. Following Silas out of the room and down the dark windowless hallway, gripping the warm metal of her .45 in her hand. Silas paused and bent down throwing an area rug out-of-the-way then lifting the trap door it concealed open.

Meghan looked over her shoulder to find, Fadden, Sean and Mickey rushing down the hall toward them. Mickey held a phone to his ear already rousing the local boys. Fadden moved closer as he spoke, "we pushed the cupboard in front of the door, but it won't hold them off long." Meghan met Fadden's gaze as she turned and followed her brother down the ladder, Fadden's mad Irish gaze was filled with bloody anticipation Meghan could just make out in the poor lighting. Fadden McGuire was mad as a hatter and one of those boys who fed off blood lust, it was a chilling thing to watch. Shed personally witnessed him laugh in the face of tortured and dying men and women for that matter. It was as though, he'd long ago lost sight of what they all sacrificed to achieve, taking great pleasure in the suffering he could cause their enemy. Mickey O'Toole was the other side of that spectrum, no less scary if need be, he was cold and taciturn. He gave the orders and Fadden executed them with bone chilling eagerness. Sean was just a lad really no more than twenty-four, baby-faced and deceptively non threatening in appearance, but every bit as ruthless as the men he'd come here with if need be.

They descended down a ladder into what would appear to anyone none the wiser, little more than a hand dug root cellar under the cabin. Silas handed Meghan a flashlight from one of the many shelves and turned on the one he'd procured for himself. And continued along the small space to the shelves lining the back wall, covered in miscellaneous survival supplies, such as blankets, canteens, military rations and some canned goods, then he reached out grabbing hold of one shelf and pulled. All the shelves all pulled from the wall and opened up to reveal a dark narrow tunnel. Also hand dug and supported by beams, it had been built for just such an occasion As Meghan stepped inside she heard the sound of glass breaking and something crashing to the floor. She focused her gaze ahead into the narrow tunnel and the promise of freedom awaiting at the end.

* * *

Barney didn't know whether to be grateful that once they'd pushed the cabinet blocking the door over they found the cabin empty or not. He hadn't relished the idea of a close quarters shoot out, especially not when he needed two of them alive, but he didn't like the idea they had escaped either or that they could at this very moment be calling for reinforcements. Loosing the element of surprise meant every member nearby would be on their way, the nearest village was forty-five minutes away, but that still there might not be time enough to catch them and get out-of-the-way.

Meghan and her comrades drew closer to the end of the tunnel, the soft glimmer of moonlight and the deafening echo of the surf crashing into the bottom of the cliffs filled her with clarity and calm, her already heightened senses went into overdrive, her pounding heart picked up tempo, the closer they got to the end of the tunnel. She didn't delude herself into thinking they'd be safe when they reached that light but it would give them cover and a chance, that was as long as no one lay in wait. The chances of that we're slim to none, Meghan didn't know who they were or how many, but they''d try and cut off any chance of escape.

They excited the tunnel that ended only two hundred hundred feet or so away from it's beginning, quickly and with as much caution as possible, one by one. First was Fadden gun at the ready, he was quickly followed by Sean, who was equally as cautios. Silas stepped back allowing her to proceed him, following quickly on her heels. Meghan stepped carefully out of the hidden entrance, quickly surveying her surroundings, pistol up as she hurried to the nearest cover, feeling the fridged salt filled air wip about her body.

Silas kept Meghan close to his side and hurried behind a nearby hill of sand and earth. Not nearly as tall as some that surrounded them but effective cover, Mickey followed until a shot rang out and he was cut down. His eyes huge as he fell forward lifeless onto the ground. The bullet, that had come from behind them had bore into his heart. Meghan lifted her gun with a steady hand, ready to act as did Silas. Her attention moved in the direction of the shot, Silas's stayed on the tunnel opening. "We need to move. Their behind and in front of us." His gaze and tone serious as he held her eyes. Meghan nodded knowing he was right. Her gaze traveling to Fadden and Sean as they made their way behind the same hill Meghan and Silas hid behind, using the trench like area formed by the netwrok of small and big hills. Seconds later Silas fired first one shot then another. A loud grunt was heard from the tunnel and then several shot rang out in their direction peppering the small knoll in front of them.

"What do we do?" Sean asked as the bullets stopped.

"We can't stay here, we are dead if we do." Silas said answering the rhetorical question.

"We fight." Fadden intejected, needlessly his eyes alight with that gleam.

"And send a prayer to the almighty, that the others get here before we're all dead." Meghan added herself.

"We can't go to the moors they've got us blocked off." Silas said then questioned, "do we know how many?" His eyes passing between Sean and Fadden. No one answered.

"Then we go carefully," Silas said, meeting each of their gazes. "We lead them on a chase and keep them busy till the others get here." The task at hand set. Fadden quickly got to his feet staying low. "I'll try to get being them that's behind us." Checking his clip, he started to move and said, "I'll see you all on the other side."

In the next few minutes that followed it was difficult to say how everything happened. Barney sent Lee and Gunnar through the tunnel after the them, fully aware it could be a trap, but with no intel on the cabin itself and not knowing where the tunnel ended he had little choice. He and the others moved outside, he sent Toll Road and Hale toward the moors in the direction the tunnel had run. He didn't need to tell them their job was to cut off the Irish and force them back. If he was going to have to fight them he'd rather it was on open ground not hunting them over rough terrain, he knew nothing about, in the middle of the night.

He and Yang took up position in the yard waiting for the cornered men to back track. Barney heard one shot quickly followed by two more and then more. Then Hale voice, "one down, two to go."

Then less than two minutes later Tolls voice saying "it ain't happening." Then more rapid gun fire.

Fadden didn't make it far and found himself turning back as his route was cut off with bullets.

All went quiet then hell broke loose. Bullets rained a hailstorm from the Irish as they moved in the direction of the cabin again and when the smoke cleared the only things Barney knew for certain was Lee had gotten shot twice, once in the vest and once in the shoulder by Silas O'Leary, he had two dead Irishmen, and he had no idea where the sibling were or the other RIRA member.

* * *

Meghan dropped to her belly crawling under the back wall of the shed, then stood and hurried toward the front of the windowless building, Silas immediately Behind her. She peaked around the cracks in the boards trying to see what was happening. Silas fell against the wall beside her panting and out of breath. Neither said anything as they listened, hearing nothing. It was Meghan that spoke first, "where is Fadden?" she'd seen Mickey cut down near the tunnel by the ones sent to herd then back in this direction and knew Sean had suffered the same fate, cut down in an attempt to distract the men after them from Meghan and Silass escape, but she didn't know where Fadden was. Silas shook his head, ignoring her question and voicing what they both knew, "this is it lass." Meghan shifted her gaze to her brother, "aye." She answered. "It doesnae have ta be." Silas offered, his gaze moving from his sister and fixing on the hay that covered the floor.

"What are ya thinkin'?" Meghan asked suspiciously.

"Mickey's dead and Sean likewise. If ye go I can cover you. Loose yourself in the moors the bastards will never be able ta find ya." He began and met her gaze as he continued. "Go to Dublin, find father Maginus he'll protect you." Meghan shook her head, "nay, you go I was the one that killed the senators son." Silas leaned closer and took her face in his hands. "You go Lass, one of has to live. And what kinda a man would I be if I left my sister ta fend for herself." Gun fire from close at hand broke into the calm that surrounded them. Silas pulled away, turning his attention toward the door. Meghan did like wise moving closer, she peered through the cracks in the wall just in time to see Fadden take a bullet in the chest. He fell to the ground, his rifle flying from his hands, landing out of reach in front of him and slightly to the left. Her gaze left him as she searched for the men who shot him. The crack she looked through only gave her a limited vantage point, her gaze came back to Fadden to find him struggling upright, back onto his feet. No you fool, Meghan thought. But she knew even if she yelled those words and Fadden heard her, he wouldn't listen. There was only one way to defeat a man like him; only one way he would be taken. She couldn't see his face, but she saw or thought she saw the stiffening of his spine, he pulled his pistol from the holister and brought it up as he staggered forward one step then began to run forward, parallel with their hiding place. She saw one muzzle flash from his pistol. Then the demeaning report of an automatic rifle as another bullet hit Fadden, blood spraying from his new wound and Silas's hand was on her arm yanking her back. Several guns going off at once filled the air.

"Run!" Silas hollered above the roar of chaos, meeting Meghan's gaze. Holding his gaze Meghan knew her brother also understood this was it. If any of them lived through this night it would be a miracle. "Ye need to go." He said when Meghan didn't immediately move. Looking down at the pistol in her hand she knew she didn't have more than maybe five more rounds in the clip and one in the chamber. Moving closer he grabbed her arm. "One of us has to make it. You have to go Lass." Meghan threw her arms around her brother and whispered, "slan go foill." A sad smile lit Silas's face as he pulled back speaking the same words back to his sister only in English, "Aye, goodbye for now." Despite the words they both knew they'd likely not see another dawn. Meghan hesitated a moment more then pressed her pistol into his hand and said, "ye need this worse than me." Then staying low hurried for the small opening at the base of the back wall. Silas's attention went back to the door and he waited a moment. Taking a deep breath, he moved into position and kicking the door open with his foot he fired off a shot as he jumped through the opening and reveiled his hiding place.

She heard the first shot, knowing it was a distraction, a cover to give her time. She forced her legs to keep moving. But she'd hadn't made it far when the firing quieted and the night went eerily calm. She paused, her body freezing. Then she heard Silas voice holler, "Rithimid agus ní fhéachaimid inár ndiaidh." Run and don't look back.

Silas watched his captors appear slowly one by one materializing out of the shadows. Six of them in total, among them was the one he knew he'd wounded earlier, he'd shot him in the vest and once in the shoulder. And as he approached now he favored his injured arm. He was one of the shorter ones and carried himself with a certain amount of authority, but he wasn't the one in charge. The one in charge stood out from the rest, even more so than the man Silas had wounded. Not because of any markings but it was made obvious by the way the way he carried himself.

Silas struggled to his feet, acutely aware of the hole in his side, but he would meet this man on his feet not bleeding on the ground. The man only said one thing as his eyes traveled over Silas, "where is your sister?"

Silas laughed despite the pain the action caused, "gone."

Barney heard the hollow laugh and watched the dying man closely, he had a feral gleam in his eyes and he smiled showing his bloody teeth. Barney knew the question was stupid even before he asked it and really the man's words were no less than what he expected. "Damn it." Barney said in irritation, the last thing they needed was to go searching through the Irish countryside after dark in an attempt to run the girl to ground. "Toll Road, Lee get him under cover, pack his wounds and stay here. Everyone else find the girl."

It took Meghan a moment to find her legs, caught between doing what Silas wanted her to do and going back for him. What the in the hell was she doing? He wouldn't leave her. She quickly decided on her course of action knowing every second she delayed was one second closer to capture. She ran slightly deeper into the moors staying, somewhat foolishly, on the game trail, then climbed through a thicket of brush, then turning and climbing up a moor from where she knew she could see the cottage below. The branches scrapping and tearing at her face, hair and clothing. When she reached the top she couldn't see them, but it really didn't matter, she would enter the gates of hell themselves if there was even the slightest chance Silas was alive, she couldn't leave him. But She also knew even as she slid quietly down the moor unable to decide what best to do that this wasn't going to end well.

Gunnar had tracked what he believed to be the girl along a game trail then her footprints disappeared. The only logical conclusion was she'd climbed into the thicket. smiling slightly, he had to admit it was good cover really. There was no way any of them, besides maybe Yang could follow, least of all him, he wouldn't make it more than a couple of feet into the tangled mess after her. And she could pick any of them off that came this way, but as he was still standing he doubted that was her aim. His eyes wandered across the thicket and up the side of the hill it covered. He knew instantly she was going back for her brother. Turning and retracing his steps he spoke softly into his com, "she's doubling back."

Meghan, made the bottom of the moor and hunkered down staying in the shadows and behind the rocks and brush that grew along the edge of the yard. Sean's cold, lifeless form lay about eighty yards away, close to an animal pen she could see the stainless steel barrel of his gun glistening faintly. she wasn't fool enough to think she'd be any match of strength for any of the men present, her best and only hope was to get that rifle and get Silas into the land rover. It was their only chance. The only chance she'd had to escape on foot was gone. These men were professionals not unlike herself, her brother and her dead associates and she had no doubt they figured out by now she'd doubled back. That meant time was not on her side.

Gunnar wasn't surprised to find he was right. He watched her scurry across the yard, staying low, close to the ground. She was after the gun lying not far off by one of the men they'd killed. He wasn't close enough to overtake her before she reached it not in plain sight. He carefully surveyed their surroundings and caught sight of Barney slowly moving toward her on her right, using the cover of shadow and the moors to move closer, but soon he'd lose the benefit of cover, pulling his rifle up,he watched as the girl continued her futile move for the rifle. He sighted in through his scope, the glowing cross hairs trained on her leg and waited for the right moment.

The closer Meghan got to the gun the more adrenaline surged threw her, getting that gun wasnt half the battle she faced, but it was a start. She cast a superstitious look over her shoulder and saw a tall man, the faint moonlight illuminating the tufts of blonde hair that was visible around the brim of his hat, his rifle trained on her and froze.

Gunnar recognized the resolve that filled her slight frame as she stood, even from a distance, the kind that said she'd do whatever she needed to. They weren't getting her out of here alive.

Barney watched the exchange between the girl and Gunnar, instinct driving his actions, he moved on her quickly. Using the window Gunnar's presence gave him. They needed her alive, therefore Gunnar wouldn't shoot her unless he had no option, he was giving Barney cover.

Meghan caught movement in her peripheral vision, and on instinct spun at the same time the tall one fired his rifle, the bullet connected with the barrel of the gun she was after, sending it sliding further away from her. The same time the gun slid beyond her reach and any hope of retrieval, she was caught around the waist and propelled into the ground face first, the heavy weight of her attacker knocking the air from her lungs. Then she was roughly drug to her feet, one arm twisted painfully behind her back. A deep voice encouraged her to stop as she began to struggle. An act born purely of desperation, Her foot swung back wildly connecting with a something, whatever it was filled the air with a round of angry obscenities. It gained her freedom. No matter how short-lived. She tore free and spun catching the man in a round house. Only to find herself propelled onto her arse in the dirt again and the cold barrel of a pistol pressed to the back of her head. "Stay put." A different, but almost as deep voice laced with a faint Swedish inflection ordered. Ignoring the voice, she immediately tried to gain her feet again. The same voice entered her ears, "fuck." As she was pushed back into the dirt, and the gun barrel pushed harder against her head. "Unless, you want to end up like your brother stay put." The voice ordered again and instantly the fighting instinct quieted. Silas. Where was he? Was he alive? She felt herself being pushed, the pebbles on the hard cold ground under her knees bit into her soft flesh as she was rocked forward. The barrel dropped away as someone zip tied her wrists together, the plastic cutting into her exposed skin painfully. Then she was roughly dragged to her feet and shoved forward.

Meghan slowly raised her eyes to the men standing around her, but more importantly the one standing before her. Lifting her blood streaked face toward the moonlight. She met the dark ones steely eyed gaze, measure for measure. Scrutinizing his tall, heavily muscled form in the waning moonlight, she recognized him for what he was. A chill slid down her spine as she held his gaze. Her reckoning had come. Her pale horse was here.

* * *

**So, I'm going to apologize. I'm afraid the view points might have been a little confusing, in some instance I gave one sentence view points than switched to another character****. Anyway, I hope it wasn't to confusing and for those of that have reviewed, followed, favd, I'm sorry this chapter has taken me all these months, I will try to be quicker with the third and final chapter.**


End file.
